


dreaming like a poisoned flower

by LocketShoru



Category: Saint Seiya, 聖闘士星矢: 冥王神話 | Saint Seiya: The Lost Canvas
Genre: (and it was queen's), Breakfast, Harpy Valentine - Freeform, M/M, Midnight Kisses, Oneshot, There was only one bed trope, Timeline Unspecified, birthday fic, he cameos I suppose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 04:54:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20633405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LocketShoru/pseuds/LocketShoru
Summary: Rhadamanthys' concern for his subordinates' well-being can get a little out of hand sometimes, but when that does happen, he can always just take a deep breath and remember he is not alone in the 'I have Emotions and I hate it' support group.





	dreaming like a poisoned flower

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WaywardDesertKnight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaywardDesertKnight/gifts).

> This was a birthday fic for Wavy last year, and I just remembered I should post it and create the Rhada/Queen/Syl tag. I think my favourite line is mentioning Sylphide's midnight snack of a single piece of untoasted bread. That's what we call a 'depression meal' and we've all had it, I'm sure.

It keeps happening, and Rhadamanthys really has no idea what he’s going to do about it, or even what he’s supposed to do about it. Every night it’s the same- sleep four hours, wake up for an hour, go back to bed for two and be abruptly woken from the sounds of screaming and the sticky scent of blood. It always takes him a few minutes to register that he’s awake, and by the time he does, he also needs to register that he is now standing in front of a closed bedroom door.

It’s a different door every night, it rotates between four. Whichever one of his subordinates was in the dream is likely now asleep on the other side of the wall. Rhadamanthys wakes from their dead body, and it’s instinct to get to them and make sure they’re all right before he’s capable of stringing a sentence together.

Tonight, it’s Queen, and the scent of flowers seeps through the smell of blood from the other side, and he rests his forehead on the painted wood and tries to breathe. He doesn’t know what he would say, either, if he was found here. He had no explanation. It wasn’t like he could admit the truth - a Judge of Hell does not have any weaknesses - and even then, he didn’t need anyone worrying about his sleeping habits, or lack thereof.

“My Lord, I’m fairly certain there are better exercise habits than this,” comes a voice from behind him, and he spins around on his heel, Cosmos at the ready for anyone who shouldn’t be there.

Sylphide stands in front of him, dressed in flannel pants and a tshirt that likely belongs to Gordon. In one hand is a single piece of untoasted bread with a few missing chunks, poison stained into the flesh. Rhadamanthys registers what he just said and sputters a little, mind wild trying to think of some excuse that doesn’t sound among the lines of “I was dreaming and got scared of it and am now in a completely different house trying to calm down”. 

Sylphide only raises an eyebrow, and gently reaches past him to open Queen’s door. Queen’s still asleep, sprawled out across his bed with the covers mostly tossed to one side. Sylphide pushes him in, backing him up until he stumbles over a shoe on the floor and falls directly into Queen’s bed. Thankfully, he doesn’t fall on top of him.

He does, however, wake him up. Queen sits up and opens his eyes, rubbing at one with his wrist. “Who’s dropping pretty boys into my bed?” he asks, voice a little slurred from sleep.

Rhadamanthys was sputtering a little before, and now he feels his face heat up and he definitely isn’t making any noises but choked attempts at an explanation. He is on some level aware that he is a good-looking man, but it wasn’t something he’d expect from Queen. Especially not when Queen settles down again with his head on his chest, a faint smile playing on his still-red lips.

Sylphide finishes the single piece of untoasted bread and climbs into bed on Queen’s other side, clearly entertained. Queen reaches over and pulls the two of them close. Rhadamanthys isn’t entirely sure how to react, if he’s to be honest - he didn’t expect to end up in Queen’s bed at all, but he also isn’t about to refuse him. He obediently moves closer, rolling onto his side, and only blushes more when Queen cuddles into his chest. He’s warm, not so surprisingly, and even in the darkness he can tell that his cheeks are tinged with the green of his half form.

Rhadamanthys adjusts his position to be a little more comfortable, and feels a slightly damp pressure on his Adam’s apple. Queen shifts his head back to look at him, a soft, adoring light in his eyes, and his face heats up again. He’d never considered the idea before - or rather, he had, but not as anything but an idealistic, unrealistic daydream - but suddenly, now that he wasn’t the one to make the first step, found the possibility opening up before him like the flowers Queen grew. He closes his eyes, leans in, and kisses him, a bit of a rusty, tired purr in the back of his throat. Queen’s fingers brush at his collar and only tugs a little at the hem of his shirt, wanting to pull him closer. He moves closer, a hand sliding to Queen’s waist and pulling him underneath him, resting his weight on his forearms.

Queen’s kiss is soft and receiving, touching his lips with his tongue in hopes of something a bit more passionate. He lets him up for air first, ignoring how flustered his face is and simply accepting it. Some things he doesn’t have to have a plan for, it works as well for punching out a Bronze Saint as it does for Aiacos’ turn to cook dinner, and Queen’s sleepy, flustered smile is just one of those things.

Sylphide, resting on his side with his head propped up by his elbow, smirks at them. “You two have a quite a show there,” he comments, and Queen sticks his tongue out at him. Rhadamanthys blushes, though he isn’t sure if he’s blushing more or just forgot that he was blushing in the first place. “How much is it to get into that, I wonder?”

“Do you _want_ to be part of this?” Queen asks, though he sounds more entertained than rejective. Sylphide grins and moves over to them, leaning in and kissing the corner of Rhadamanthys’ mouth in response.

He checks the clock in the corner of his eyes - half past four - and wonders if any of them are going to be getting any more sleep. It only takes a moment, but he finds himself suddenly pinned on his back beside Queen. Sylphide catches his wrists and pins them on the pillow just above his head, straddling his waist with his legs, and it is as much as he can do to just relax and trust that Sylphide and Queen know what they’re doing.

They seem to, anyway, because he closes his eyes and just lets Sylphide kiss him, deep and passionate and somewhat aggressive, his fangs tracing the edges of Rhadamanthys’ lips, and he can feel Queen kissing his collarbone and the part of exposed chest where his shirt is low. Queen finds a sensitive spot and he lets out a breath, trying not to purr between Sylphide’s kisses. He’s let up for air after a few moments and Queen smiles at him, flower-sweet, undoing the buttons on his shirt. 

“What were you two even doing outside of my room, anyway?” Queen asks, entertained and fingers drifting down his chest.

Sylphide grins at him. Rhadamanthys opens his mouth to explain, and Sylphide beats him to it. “Clearly we were getting saucy and wanted you between us, duh,” he answers, that oh-so-familiar smirk on his face.

Rhadamanthys sputters again. “We were not-” he protests, but Queen is already laughing and moves closer into his side, a hand on his stomach. 

“Stay the night, will you?” he murmurs, his voice suddenly low and sweet, and Rhadamanthys leans over to kiss him again. He isn’t sure if he can consider an hour before they have to be up ‘the night’, but it’s fine by him. It doesn’t look like Queen wants him to leave, and he can’t with Sylphide sitting on him anyway. Queen leans in and strokes his cheek as they kiss, and Sylphide leans in to trace kisses down the side of his face. It feels nicer than he expected it would, and he pulls them just a little closer, one hand on Queen’s back and the other on Sylphide’s waist.

Sylphide slips a hand into his hair, playing with the short golden locks. He hums a little, enjoying the touch even if it does send a slight shiver down his spine. Queen kisses him a little more, tugging with his teeth on his bottom lip a little. It isn’t too deep a kiss, and on some level he is aware that Queen isn’t kissing him as filthy as he would’ve liked, but he appreciates it as it is, and soon breaks it just so he can pull the two of them into better positions. Sylphide shifts over to Queen’s other side, and presses a kiss to the back of his neck, causing Queen to give out a surprised squeaking noise, shifting his position to look at him. Rhadamanthys smiles - for all his vicious nature and incapability of being docile for a second, Queen can be surprisingly cute. He reaches out to rest his hand on Sylphide’s forearm, and only cuddles into Queen’s chest when one of the two pulls up the covers over their shoulders. Sylphide holds back a yawn.

“I saw that, Syl,” he murmurs, unconvinced. “I’ll still be here in an hour when it’s time to get up.” He leans over to kiss his forehead, hoping he takes the reassurance and goes to sleep. Sylphide returns the kiss on his chin and closes his eyes, burying his face in Queen’s shoulder. He smiles to himself a little, admiring the way the moonlight of just-before-dawn makes his silver hair almost sparkle. 

“What drew you here tonight, if I may ask?” Queen murmurs quietly, looking up at him with a gentle, curious smile on his cheeks. Rhadamanthys looks away, unsure of how to phrase it.

“Just had a feeling something was wrong,” he answers. He doesn’t want to explain the nightmares or what started them, but at least near Queen, he can’t smell anything but the flowers, least of all the blood that he was used to waking up to.

“Only thing that’s wrong now is that you’re not kissing me,” Queen complains, a touch overdramatic. He smiles and presses a kiss to his lips, brief but sweet.

“Go sleep, Queen, tomorrow will be a long day like always,” he says, and Queen does, pressing his face into his chest. He closes his eyes himself, and it isn’t long before sleep takes him.

Rhadamanthys awakens to a warmth beside him and the smell of something he can’t quite place. It smells good, whatever it is, and he moves a little, just enough that his muscles recognize that it’s time to get up, and opens his eyes.

He’s laying on Queen’s chest, an arm draped over his side and the Spectre in question simply playing with his hair as well as arguing playfully with Sylphide, who is half-dressed and holding a shirt. They both notice that he’s awake and their conversation stops.

“Looks like Sleeping Beauty’s awake,” Sylphide teases. Usually Rhadamanthys would scold him for such a nickname, but considering what Sylphide had managed to drag him into the night before, he isn’t about to get annoyed. Queen’s heartbeat is steady against his cheek, and he decides he doesn’t really want to move. 

Queen wraps his arms a little tighter around him. “Hey, he’s allowed to sleep, you know. Besides, I was about to wake him up anyway for breakfast.”

He’s a little surprised - usually he makes his own breakfast, and vaguely he wonders who is making breakfast, now that he recognizes that the scent is flowers mixed with cooking eggs and some sort of meat. He sits up, shifting his weight so he isn’t laying entirely on Queen. “Is breakfast an affair I am expected to be dressed for?” He hadn’t exactly planned on staying the night, and hadn’t brought a change of clothes for.

Sylphide laughs. “It’s breakfast, not a formal affair. I bet Val is going to want to walk you home personally, or you can just borrow Gordon’s clothes like the rest of us.”

It isn’t a fact he’s considered, but it is one that explains a few things. The possibility of wearing Gordon’s clothes is also a good one, since he doesn’t have to head back home without getting dressed, though it does have the downside of Minos and Aiacos noticing in about five seconds.

Valentine appears in the doorway, pink hair tied back in a ponytail but otherwise still in his night clothes. “Breakfast, boys,” he says, and nods with a slight bow to Rhadamanthys. “You too, m’lord.” He vanishes down the hallway a moment later, clearly eager for food.

Queen helps him out of bed, keeping a hand on his waist. He does keep an eye on where Queen’s shoes are, in hopes he doesn’t trip on them again, and once he’s standing, stretches out. Sylphide grins, leaning up against the doorframe and his eyes on Rhadamanthys’ midriff. He smiles in return and stretches out his back muscles, his shirt casually lifting up a few inches. Sylphide gives a slight wolf-whistle, and he blushes.

He finds he’s been blushing a lot more in the past few hours, and for once, instead of blushing because his brothers are teasing him again, it’s a good kind of blushing. He’s flattered that they think so highly of him, especially after his absolutely ludicrous reasons for showing up.

Queen finishes stretching behind him, and the three head out to the dining room for breakfast, of which he thinks Gordon might be cooking. Whatever it is, it surely smells good.


End file.
